


Scent Memory

by trufflemores_Glee_fic



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 01:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores_Glee_fic/pseuds/trufflemores_Glee_fic
Summary: Associations run deep; anything with Kurt brings Blaine comfort.





	Scent Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! After receiving multiple requests to repost my old Glee fics, I have created a second AO3 account to do so. I hope you can forgive me for flooding the Glee pages over the next few days. 
> 
> I also ask for kindness regarding the quality of these fics. Over on my main AO3 account (trufflemores), I have written over 150 Flash fics; end result, my current work is of a higher quality than these older pieces. But I know how beloved old fics can be, and I respect that something I consider sub-par can be someone else's favorite. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this fic and any others you choose to read. If you choose to do so, I would also be happy to have you on board 'The Flash' bandwagon as well.
> 
> Kick back, relax, and enjoy. You have been one of the greatest audiences I have ever had.
> 
> Affectionately yours,  
> trufflemores

Blaine didn't have nightmares often with Kurt at his side, but on the nights when Kurt worked late and Blaine dozed off before he returned, they plagued him.

The theme was always the same: an impenetrable wall separating him and Kurt, a pervading sense of doom, and a rising feeling of helplessness as the situation rapidly deteriorated.  It didn't matter how hard he tried to save him, how inventively he tried to stem the flow of blood or waft out the flames or abate the agony befalling him.  Kurt still burned or bled or drowned, and Blaine was forced to watch, able to cradle him in his arms but not stop the perilous tick of time working against him.

So Blaine learned not to nap unless Kurt was around, because somehow even Kurt's mere presence was enough to keep the terrors away. 

It wasn't until he collapsed in a formless heap on the couch and sank into a deep, dark sleep, exhausted after a gruelingly long day, that Kurt finally walked in on him mid-nightmare.

"Honey?"

The disequilibrium between nightmare-Kurt's wails and Kurt was sharp enough to drag Blaine out of the shadows, blinking hazily at Kurt across the couch.  He didn't know how he'd gone from horizontal to a slouched but generally upright position.  Deciding not to question it, he leaned into Kurt's hand where it cradled his cheek, breathing out a slow, ragged sigh.

"It's okay," Kurt assured, so sound and conversational that Blaine didn't feel ashamed as he buried his face against his shoulder, still trembling finely.  "It's okay."

They held on to each other for a countless period of time, Blaine's breathing slowly steadying to match Kurt's.  It wasn't until Blaine's muscles began to ache from being tense for so long -- and, subsequently, Kurt's hands began to trace patterns against his shoulders -- that he finally felt at home again, back in his own body rather than stuck in some twisted parody.

Eventually, Kurt tugged and prodded him until they were both horizontal, cuddled up on the couch together with Blaine's cheek resting against Kurt's chest, tucked under his arm.  He didn't know what sort of work Kurt still had to get done, but he was grateful that Kurt had chosen to be with him instead, if only temporarily.

Rain was coming down steadily outside, and he could hear it pattering off the roof, a constant, soothing staccato.  Kurt's hand was placed low on his hip, tracing circles against it as Blaine closed his eyes and listened to his breathing.

At last, Kurt said, "As well-defined as your shoulders are, at least one of my sweaters should still fit you.  And it's sort of fair since I stole your Dalton hoodie a few months ago."

Blaine frowned in confusion, about to ask what Kurt meant when it dawned on him.  He'd caught Kurt infrequently curled up on the couch or a chair in Blaine's old Dalton hoodie, a well-loved and well-worn item that seemed even cozier around Kurt's shoulders.  He never specified what it was about the hoodie that he liked most, but Blaine never failed to notice that it smelled uncannily like his cologne even after weeks between wearings (Kurt rarely relinquished the treasured piece of clothing long enough for him to put it on, even though they both knew it was originally Blaine's).

He'd never had the same audacity, knowing how much Kurt loved his clothes.  The unspoken meaning -- take what you need to feel safer -- made something in his whirring mind still, his anxious thoughts cease.

With Kurt at his side, he wasn't afraid.

He slept straight through Kurt's return home after a late night two weeks later, comfortably ensconced in one of Kurt's comfiest blue sweaters and the ease of knowing that Kurt -- his Kurt, the real one -- was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Please let me know if there are any weird coding errors in the fic! I did my best to weed them out before publication, but some will inevitably slip through the cracks.


End file.
